


Gnawing

by kimtristh



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: M/M, Neck Kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-16
Updated: 2013-05-16
Packaged: 2017-12-12 00:37:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/805092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kimtristh/pseuds/kimtristh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will can feel the sharp edge of a canine, the dull harshness of an incisor. He can feel the sharp exhale of breath, the heavy weight of his not-boyfriend’s hand on the other side of his neck.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gnawing

**Author's Note:**

> For the [kink meme](http://hannibalkink.dreamwidth.org/1375.html?thread=1216095#cmt1216095). Thank you for reading :)

Will realises (and he realises it is strange that he hadn’t realised before), that they don’t kiss too often, but instead, they mostly do this. 

He is sprawled on a sofa, one leg awkwardly curled over the edge of the seat, the other one mostly stretched along the side; and Hannibal is sitting next to him, or on top of him, somehow managing to cloud his vision, covering him entirely in every direction and yet completely independent to his trembling form.

Will can feel the sharp edge of a canine, the dull harshness of an incisor. He can feel the sharp exhale of breath, the heavy weight of his not-boyfriend’s hand on the other side of his neck as he holds him in place. He likes it, the fervour with which Hannibal is gnawing at the tender flesh of his neck, makes him feel almost _devoured_.

Hannibal moves his hand then, his hold changing from his neck to his jaw, runs his finger across Will’s bottom lip and only then does Will realise he had been moaning, mouth unabashedly open all along – he is more embarrassed by how lacking he is in the observation department when it comes to this than by the sounds emitted by his body without his knowledge – and Hannibal’s thumb has left a wet path of stolen saliva as it traced down his chin to the base of his throat once again.

Will might not be at his sharpest at the moment, but he is definitely at his most sensitive – he can confirm when Hannibal stops his attack for a second and he whimpers, a needy desperate sound which makes Hannibal chuckle, the gust of air making his abused skin throb.

Hannibal likes how incoherent their little sessions leave Will. A lot of people seem to think Will is not able to control himself, Hannibal begs to differ, it is astounding how his not-patient keeps his urges at bay, even at times like this. It takes him quite a long while, eternal minutes, even hours of teasing to get him to the point where he is now, whimpering and moaning under him, hand curled around Hannibal’s neck, holding his mouth in place, skin covered in goosebumps, neck covered in love bites...

He traces his tongue gently over the bruised shapes his teeth have left, soothing the aching flesh with his warmth softness, lips suckling and kissing the skin of his not-victim, enjoying the tastes he brings – like nutmeg and musk, traces of that cologne of his, but mostly just Will. His Will.

Hannibal lets his hand fall from his not-lover’s neck, to his crotch, cupping around the hardened flesh and pressing harshly around it, and that’s all it takes. Will’s hips jump off from the sofa, thrusting almost violently against the palm of the doctor’s hand and he’s coming, he cries out loudly, throat almost raw after the long string of moans and whimpers from earlier, and then he collapses boneless under the older man, who withdraws his hand once he has stopped twitching, smirking at Will as he looks up at him in the middle of post-orgasmic haze.

“Maybe you can put your mouth to good use too, my dear Will,” says Hannibal as he lies back on his chaise-longue, perfectly buttoned up and composed in a way that Will is not. 

Will knows he hasn’t fooled the older man in the two beats it takes him to change his expression from a snarl into a smirk, but he’d be lying if he said he isn’t enjoying this as much if not more than his not-psychiatrist. 

“Maybe,” he says before dropping to his knees.


End file.
